


2258: a breath

by halahan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Massage, Not Beta Read, Tension, binsung, haha get it, honestly im so soft over my own writing i might cry, i love binsung, it's cute, maybe? what is considered domestic..., soft, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27390853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halahan/pseuds/halahan
Summary: Changbin always looks good, in Jisung’s honest and totally not biased opinion, but there is just something about him when he’s writing lyrics that’s different.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 138





	2258: a breath

**Author's Note:**

> just one more excuse to write kisses! anna says i write kisses well so i decided to indulge in yet another pointless one shot as a break from my struggle with longer and more plotty(?) works... enjoy!

Like nerves bite at the base of his skull, Jisung bites his nails. His leg bounces up and down in a fast rhythm, the sole of his shoe squeaking against the waxed wooden floor. The studio is dimly lit like it always is when they’re writing lyrics because Chan says that it helps set the mood for the inspiration to come, but Chan isn’t there and Jisung doesn’t feel any inspiration coming to him even though the deadline for his verse is in two days. Jisung sighs under his breath at the thought of his deadline.

Usually, Jisung is rather fast when it comes to lyrics, wrapping them in a couple of hours, sometimes even under an hour, but this time… Nothing. He doesn’t even really know where to start. But is it his fault if he’s supposed to write about love, when he has nothing to say about it? To Jisung, love is still a mysterious thing, something he’s only seen from afar or barely grazed with his fingers, unlike Changbin who seems to know everything about it, typing away on his phone, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouting in total concentration.

Changbin always looks good, in Jisung’s honest and totally not biased opinion, but there is just something about him when he’s writing lyrics that’s different. Although Changbin is a pretty relaxed and transparent person in all kinds of situations where Jisung finds himself putting on a chill mask, he still holds himself a certain way, keeps a good posture, maintains his appearance. However, when Changbin writes, he gets completely lost in it and cuts everything else out. His face is focused, creating a crease between his eyebrows, his shoulders stable from resting his elbows on his seat’s armrests as he writes. Sometimes, he raises his eyes from the screen and they roam around the room, never really _looking_ at anything.

Jisung, him, in his total lack of concentration, looks at everything. He gets side-tracked by a notification or an email, pulls and pushes on the edge of the table, rolling and spinning in his chair, he plays with a loose thread in his jeans he forgot to ask the stylists to help him fix, he bites his nails, his lip, the inside of his cheeks. But mostly, he looks at Changbin.

The more time they spend in the studio, with or without Chan along with them, the more time Jisung has found himself looking at and thinking about Changbin. It took him a while to even realize it, but by the time he did, it was like he had already made his peace with it. Jisung was okay with pining in silence. It’s not like he was going to do anything about it, anyway, he never had.

And with that, Jisung is back to square one: writing about love, which he’d never gotten a taste of. Jisung lets out another sigh, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

“What is it?” Changbin asks.

They never really pay attention to the level of their voice in the studio, considering it’s soundproof and even if they were screaming or laughing like madmen—which they had both done before—they wouldn’t be bothering anyone else in the building. Yet Changbin is speaking quietly. When Jisung looks up at him, he’s still looking at his phone, Jisung could almost believe he’d dreamed the words.

“What’s what?” Jisung replies dumbly, his voice on the same level as Changbin’s.

This time, Changbin looks away from the screen. “You’ve sighed at least seven times since we started, I’m guessing something is wrong.” There’s no bite to his voice, it’s more playful if the half-smile on his plush lips is anything to go by.

Jisung takes in a breath, almost sighing again before he sees Changbin quirk an eyebrow and stops, using that breath to speak instead. “Can’t get any lyrics out… My head hurts.”

Changbin scoffs as if Jisung had said that fire burns and that water is wet.

“What?” Jisung deadpans.

“No, it’s just… With the way you’ve been clenching your jaw, I bet your head would hurt.”

The younger’s eyebrows shoot up, and after a moment of surprise, he realizes Changbin is right, he has been clenching his jaw all along, and it cracks when he opens his mouth wide to unlock it. He moves it around a bit and frowns, catching on the source of his pain. A shaky sigh makes it past Jisung’s lips as he feels his resilience faltering.

“That bad?” Changbin asks again, this time sounding more concerned.

Jisung pouts and looks at the other. “I can’t concentrate…”

Changbin hums, seemingly thinking for a moment, before he puts his phone down with a hand and grabs Jisung’s chair with the other, taking advantage of the wheels to bring him around the corner of the table and closer to him, slowly towards the end so Jisung’s knees—under which his hands are tucked so he won’t damage his nails further—don’t hit the edge of his own chair too hard. As Changbin is using a classic wooden chair, he’s sitting lower than Jisung, but close enough to the edge, his legs parted on each side on Jisung’s, it feels like he brought him far too close.

Jisung hopes it’s dark enough for the older boy not to notice how much redder his ears have gotten. “W-what are you doing?” He yelps, confused.

“Helping you relax!” With that, he offers Jisung a sweet smile, as if the words didn’t just make the younger’s heart trip, miss a beat, and roll down a whole hill—one with bumps—beating against his ribcage and his eardrums.

Then, Changbin’s hands are on each side of Jisung’s jaw and the latter is frozen in place, waiting for _God knows what_ to happen and— Jisung relaxes as Changbin’s thumbs start rolling on his jaw muscle in small circles.

 _Oh. He’s just giving me a massage. Because of my clenched jaw_. Jisung doesn’t want to think about what he had believed was happening for a short second.

Changbin’s fingers massage the stiff muscle slowly but with the right amount of pressure, Jisung’s skin warming with the friction, and his jaw relaxing more with each roll, his mouth opening in a small ‘o’ shape. Changbin’s fingers move further with each movement, and Jisung closes his eyes when they reach his temple.

The older’s fingers dig into the start of Jisung’s hairline, just above his ears before Changbin changes their path to the lower part of Jisung’s jaw, under his ears, towards the back of his neck and the base of his skull, coming back to the jaw every so often for a well-balanced massage.

It feels so good, and even if it’s a little uncomfortable when Changbin gets to a new part, after a few times the muscle warms up, a little more pain disappears.

Jisung doesn’t know how much time passes, too lost in the feeling of Changbin’s soft hands on his skin. He hadn’t thought about it that much before, because unlike with some other members he never holds hands with Changbin, but for some reason, he had expected Changbin’s hands to be rough and not so warm and smooth against his jaw.

At some point, when Jisung feels himself starting to doze off a little, Changbin’s hands still. Somewhere between his neck and his head, his hands have stopped moving. They're still here, a light pressure on each side of his face, fingertips in his hair, but they stopped massaging.

Maybe Changbin is done? Jisung wouldn’t blame him for stopping here, his pain far lesser now, the massage having probably lasted around ten minutes. But Changbin could’ve just taken his hands away, and yet they’re still warm on Jisung’s skin.

Confused, Jisung opens his eyes. He’s still a bit dazed from relaxing into the touch, his eyes hooded to protect him from the light he had gotten unused to.

In front of him, Changbin’s face is so close, closer than it was before Jisung closed his eyes. But Jisung is in a haze, and his brain doesn’t register it well enough for his cheeks to start burning. (Although if they did, it would only blend in with the massaged skin, red from the friction of Changbin’s fingers.)

Changbin’s eyes are hooded, too, but Jisung guesses it’s with something else. His cheeks are red and he keeps looking up and down between the younger’s eyes and… his lips? When they stop up, they seem to be searching for something in Jisung’s.

He doesn’t seem to find it—but Jisung doesn’t blame him because he’s sure his face is more relaxed even than when he’s asleep—so he asks. “Can I kiss you?”

Jisung blinks slowly, but his brain works enough to reply, “yes.” It’s just a whisper, a breath grazing Jisung’s lips when it leaves them, fanning against Changbin’s as they come closer. So close Jisung swears he can feel them yet they’re not touching his, feather-light. It feels impossible, and Jisung’s mind is clouded, like he’s in a dream.

He sighs again, so, so lightly, and it breaks the dream to become reality as Changbin’s lips finally ( _finally_ ,) collide against his.

Jisung has kissed people before, but he had blamed the lack of expected firework on his lack of real feelings for his kissing partners; and yet, this time, there are no fireworks either. Even so, it doesn’t feel like something is missing. The kiss is not wild. It’s slow, oh so soft, oh so light, but it’s sweet. It doesn’t steal his breath away; on the contrary, Jisung feels like until now, he hadn’t been able to breathe properly. _It’s like I’m asthmatic and Changbin is an inhaler_. Jisung chuckles at the absurd thought, breaking the kiss for a second. The elder doesn’t know why, but he smiles against Jisung’s lips and kisses him again as soon as he can. Jisung kisses back.

The kiss is almost like the massage; it’s nice, it makes warmth spread in Jisung’s body, it’s slow but with building pressure, it makes Jisung’s lips part a little. Changbin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in, and Jisung welcomes it with a quiet hum.

At some point, Changbin’s hands grab Jisung’s thighs and tug him so he sits on top of Changbin’s. Jisung doesn’t mind, he doesn’t mind at all. His arms wrap around Changbin’s neck comfortably as the latter’s hands rest on his waist, thumbs drawing small circles under his hoodie and against the skin just above his jeans’ waistband.

They kiss so slowly that it feels like they kiss for hours, but comes a moment where they stop, Changbin being the first to pull away, a hand holding Jisung’s jaw so he doesn’t chase after the older’s lips.

Jisung opens his eyes and once again, he feels drowsy. However, Changbin seems to do, too. Jisung’s lips tug into a smile and Changbin chuckles. Neither of them really know what to say. But what is there to say? Jisung wants to write instead.

His face suddenly lights up and ignoring the kind of confused look the older boy gives him, he twists in the latter’s lap and grabs his notebook and pen, scribbling the lyrics that pop in his still kiss-high mind.

As he writes, Changbin’s arms curl around his waist and his chin comes to rest between his shoulder and neck.

Both of them stay quiet as Jisung writes—although the younger does mumble some of the lyrics just to make sure it fits with the song—and when he finally puts the pen down, he relaxes again, slugging back into Changbin’s chest.

“Thank you,” Jisung says, closing his eyes while he settles his head on Changbin’s shoulder and his hands on the ones around him. Their fingers intertwine, fitting together well after some barely-awkward shuffling.

Changbin kisses his temple tenderly and Jisung hopes he can’t see him blush from this angle. “Any time.”

“Any?”

“Hm-mhm… You just have to become my boyfriend.”

Jisung chuckles at the cheesy line and Changbin chuckles along with him, Jisung can feel his chest vibrating with it against his back.

“Alright, then, I’m in."

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](http://twitter.com/atzplay/)


End file.
